Broken
by CrzyCndn
Summary: Clarke's journey after the end of the season 2 finale.
1. Chapter 1

She turned and started walking, leaving everything behind. She had no direction or destination in mind; she only knew she had to get away. With every step she took she moved farther and farther from all she knew. From the Drop Ship and the Arc, Ton DC and Camp Jaha. From all the people she thought of as her family and her friends. From those who had looked to her as some kind of leader; as someone who had had to make choices for them all. She wanted to get away from those she cared for who know looked at her with disappointment, hurt, anger, and hatred. But more so, she needed to be away from those who looked at her with gratitude and awe; those that still saw her as their leader, or worse, their savior.

Mostly, she tried to leave behind the memories of those she had lost. The memories of those whose lives she herself had taken. She tried to leave behind the choices she had made and the people she had hurt. She wanted to walk away from the monster she now saw herself as.

And so she started walking and did not stop. She concentrated on placing on foot in front of the other, again and again, thinking of nothing else. Not wanting to think of anything else. She wanted only to forget, so she refused to let anything in: the heat from the sun, the wind in her hair, the smell of the woods, or the sights around her. She refused to hear the rustle of the leaves or even the sound of her own breath. She was aware only of her feet continually moving her forward and taking her away.

But all too soon, their faces starting appearing like ghosts before her eyes. She saw Wells and Charlotte whose lives she did not take but for whom she still felt responsible. She saw Atom: the first life that had ended by her hand, in order for his pain to cease. Then there was Anya's second, just a young girl whom she had been unable to save, and the Grounder whose life she had ended in order to escape to try to save Finn.

Finn: the boy she had leaned on, the one she had taken guidance from. The one who had given her back her best friend before he had been killed. The one who had given her strength and purpose and love. The one who had only wanted peace and to do the right thing. That is until she had been taken and he lost himself trying to find her; to get her back. The boy who sacrificed himself to save them; to save her. And so she had ended his life to save him from the pain and torture he was going to be subjected to.

She then saw the other kids from the 100 whose lives had been taken, some of whom she barely knew. Some of them she couldn't even recall their names, and she knew they deserved so much better than that.

She saw the battle at the Drop Ship and remembered pushing the lever to close the door, knowing that she wasn't just stopping the Grounders from getting inside, but some of the 100 too, including Finn and Bellamy. She remembers the order issued from her lips to kill the Grounders who were trying to kill them. 300 lives lost with one order, one decision.

Then came the Grounders that Finn had killed and the images of bodies falling to the ground to the sounds of endless gunfire and screams. After that came the memories of Ton DC and the aftermath of the missile. 250 people that she let die to save one man and a plan to rescue those who were trapped in Mount Weather. 250 people that she had run from and turned her back on; people she could have saved.

She remembered the bodies of Grounder and Sky Person alike, drained of their usefulness and passed on to the Reapers. And she saw the Reapers themselves: drained of their humanity and left a crazed and empty shell of who they once were.

Then came the images of the lives she had extinguished in Mount Weather. She saw Dante as she shot him in the chest to prove she was serious in her threats. And she saw all of the faces of the men, women and children who had slowly died because she wanted to save her friends and her mother. All those people whom she had slaughtered because she didn't know what else to do. She saw the innocent and their allies, and Maya as she lay dying in Jasper's arms.

Over and over again she watched as the faces and the memories passed before her eyes: a morbid slideshow of what her life had become since being dropped down to the earth. It was a sick realization of what she now was and she could not stop the images from appearing. She couldn't stop the feelings from washing over her anew.

She couldn't get away from any of it but that did not stop her feet from moving. She had started walking at the edge of Camp Jaha and had not even so much as paused since. She would have kept on walking too, if her foot had not caught on a tree root and she had not stumbled and fell to her hands and knees.

It was the moment of impact that the faces started to fade from her vision and she slowly became aware again. She noticed it was now dark and had been for quite some time and when she looked around she could only make out the shapes of trees. Some moonlight filtered through the canopy and here and there were little patches of light. She had no idea how long she had been walking, how far she had travelled of where she might presently be.

Before she was able to try and answer those questions though, she became aware of the pain. She could feel it shooting from her knees through her legs and stinging emanating from her face and the backs of her hands. When she reached up to touch her face she felt what had to be numerous scratches and she assumed it was the same for her hands: most likely caused by tree branches that she had been unaware to avoid.

To find out if she was correct, she moved her hands into one of the patches of moonlight and was able to see the streaks of red that covered them. She was able to see the blood that coated her hands. There was blood on her hands; more blood than she ever thought possible, and as she looked down at her hands it all came crashing in on her.

The weight of all her decisions and the consequences that arose from them, all the lives that would no longer be led because of her, because of what she had done; it all fell on her at once and she couldn't find the strength fight it anymore. As the first tear fell from her eye it broke the walls she had built to hold back her emotions and everything came pouring out at once.

She crumpled to the ground and just cried. She cried for those who had died. She cried for those who lived but had lost so much. She cried for the person she used to be and knew she would never be again. She cried until she could cry no more. And as she slowly faded into sleep, she could feel the tears that stained her cheeks and the blood that stained her hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke wakes to feel that the pain is gone, having been replaced by numbness and emptiness. Her eyes open to see that it is no longer night but the sunlight is dimmed by a thick mist. She can barely make out the trees only twenty feet from her. As she lay there she can feel a coldness seep in through her skin and she doesn't know if it is because of the weather or because of who she is now. She fears that she will become as cold and unfeeling as Lexa.

As her name becomes present in Clarke's mind, so does her image and Clarke quickly tries to banish it. To think of Lexa is to think of what she did. It is to be reminded that once again, someone she thought she could trust had betrayed her. And because of that betrayal, she would have to think about the choices she had been forced to make. And she didn't want to think about that, she wanted to forget it.

She wanted to forget it all because remembering it, thinking about it, would only bring back the pain. A pain so vast and so immense that she was sure would swallow her completely and destroy her.

So she pushed Lexa from her mind and she did the only thing she thought would keep the memories at bay: she struggled to her feet and started walking. Her rise from the ground was slow and labored due to stiff and cold muscles. Her first few steps were unsteady and clumsy, almost sending her to her knees again. But she struggled on, concentrating once again on moving her feet, on taking herself away from it all.

She wanted so much to keep moving that she disregarded the hollow feeling in her stomach as an empty feeling in her soul. She gave no thought to the dryness of her mouth and throat. She thought only of moving and forgetting.

And so she walked. She walked as she had the day before: without seeing, without hearing, without feeling. She walked without stopping, without pausing. She walked with a purpose she did not fully understand.

But again, just as the day before, her ghosts began to haunt her, appearing before her, again and again. The more she tried to fight their presence, the quicker they showed themselves to her. Reminding her, over and over, of what she had done.

Still she tried to fight it. She strained to push the memories from her mind and they continued to push right back. She could feel the weight of it all pulling her down further and further. She could feel its claws sinking into her, anchoring itself to her and unwilling to let her go.

She tried desperately to pull herself from its grasp and was momentarily successful, only to find her eyes opening to the ground rushing up towards her.

Her body collided with the ground though she barely felt the impact. She could barely feel anything at all. She saw that she was once again surrounded by darkness and when she tried to stand she found her limbs too weak to bear her weight, almost too weak to move. Her head ached, her vision was unfocused and she realized it was probably due more to dehydration than the fall.

She tried to think back to the last time she had had anything to drink and thought it must have been before they had left for Mount Weather to save their people. She wasn't able to determine exactly how long ago that was but guessed that it had been at least a couple days. It is also then that she realizes that she had brought nothing with her when she walked away from Camp Jaha. She had only her gun and the clothes that she wore.

She needed to find water, and oddly enough, despite the fact that she had not had water in days, she could feel the need to relieve herself. So again, she tried to raise herself from the ground to find her arms and legs still unable to hold her. As she began to morbidly think that she would simply waste away and die in that very place, she spotted a glimmer of light in the darkness.

Not having the strength to even turn her head, she could only imagine what the light could be. Had Bellamy or someone from the camp followed her? Was it one of the Grounders? She had no idea what it was and she was not even strong enough in the moment to summon any fear. She could only lie there and wait to see what the light revealed itself to be.

As she watched, she thought the light drew closer but she couldn't be sure. With her vision constantly going in and out of focus, she couldn't be certain of what she was actually seeing. Especially when what she thought she was seeing couldn't be right.

The light she saw did not seem to come from a flashlight that one of those from the Arc might carry; it was neither that bright nor that steady. And though the light was inconsistent and somewhat sporadic, she knew it was not that from a torch that the Grounders would use. Instead, she thought the light seemed almost blue and it moved as if it was a balloon on a string being tugged along by a child.

The light did grow closer though and what she thought was one blue light turned out to be a few smaller blue lights. And it drew even closer to her. Closer and closer it came, and she just stared at it with a sense of curiosity until it was close enough for her to make out its details. It looked to her like one of the butterflies Octavia had told her about after Atom had died.

She watched at is slowly fluttered towards the ground and hovered a few inches in front of her face. It stayed there for a second, and then two, before flying up again and out of her line of sight.

It reminded her of her first night on the ground and she longed to go back to that time; before everything had changed for the worse. And because she was not ready to let go of the memories of that first night, she found the strength to lift her head so that she could see the glowing butterfly once more. However, she was not prepared for the sight that awaited her.

She saw the butterfly, and what had to be hundreds more of its kind. Some were flitting around here and there while the majority of them clung to trees, bushes and rocks. A blue and purplish glow emanated from them and cast a beautiful light on all their surroundings. She wondered if what she was seeing now was the same thing Octavia had seen that night.

It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever laid her eyes on and she did not feel worthy enough to witness it. As she began to lower her head and her eyes to look away from the sight, she noticed the glow reflecting and shimmering off the ground.

She thought then that everything she had just seen was only a hallucination because nothing on the forest floor could reflect light that way. Only metal or glass or water could.

She raised her head again at once, not believing what she hoped to be true. The same vision still greeted her eyes, the same shimmer and reflection still there on the ground. It waited only a few feet in front of her.

She didn't think she had enough strength to get up and walk the few feet but she thought she might just be able to crawl her way there. She used what energy she had left to make her arms and legs pull and push her body across the ground. Inch by inch she got closer and closer, and when she felt she could go no farther, her left hand dipped into the cool, wet water before her.

She scooted herself forward just a little bit more and cupped handfuls of the quenching liquid and brought it greedily to her lips. She hungrily swallowed handful after handful, letting the cold water soothe her dry throat. She drank until she felt like her stomach was finally full. And then her body seemed turned on her and she threw it all back up.

Unable to do any more, she rolled over onto her back and let sleep take her where she lay.


	3. Chapter 3

She woke the next morning to the sound of a twig snapping. She jolted up from where she laid, startling the deer that had been drinking from the pond that she had discovered last night. She studied it as it stood there, standing tall with its muscles taut, ready to sprint away if it deemed itself to be in any danger. She stared at it and it returned her stare, neither one of them moving.

Clarke stayed unmoving because she didn't want the deer to run. This one, unlike the first one she had seen, looked normal; or at least like the pictures she had seen back on the Arc. She refused to move and after a while the deer decided that she was not much of a threat. Still, it cautiously moved forward to the pond and slowly dropped its head to take a drink while keeping its eyes on her.

After having its fill from the pond, she watched and it lifted its head and went on its way. She was left alone again and she finally allowed herself to move. Her entire body was sore and she knew she needed to take the time to drink some water and find some food; as well as wash her clothes and herself based on the smell.

She slowly moved to the water and brought some up to her parched lips, drinking slowly and only a little bit at a time. She did not need a repeat of the night before. And once she had had enough water that she thought would be safe, she found herself crawling into the pond.

She crawled around until she found the deepest point, where the water came up to her chest while she sat on the rocky bottom. She let her legs extend out before her and let herself lean back until her head was floating in the water. She laid there for a few minutes, letting the cool water soothe her aching body. Then she inhaled and submerged herself completely.

As she lay there underwater, she could almost envision herself as a caterpillar wrapped tightly in a protective cocoon. For a brief second she almost felt safe before darker thoughts began to seep into her mind. She thought of how easy it would be to end it, right now, in this very moment. All she had to do was open her mouth and breathe in. Breathe in and it would all be over. She wouldn't have to relive her choices any longer. She wouldn't have to see their faces again and again. She wouldn't have to feel the pain or carry the weight any more. All she had to do was breathe in.

Though she wanted nothing more than for her pain to be gone, she couldn't quite bring herself to commit suicide. So when the need for air became too great, she rose her head up and out of the water before she allowed herself to inhale. And as she took big gulping breaths of air, she thought that if she wasn't going to let herself die than she should at least try to do something productive.

She struggled out of her thick jacket and her shirt, her boots and pants. She removed everything but her underwear and tried to clean her clothing as best as she could. When she finished with garment she wrung them out and laid them flat on a rock to dry in the sun.

Once the last piece was done she sunk back into the water and tried to clean her hair, running her fingers through it over and over again. Next she wiped at her face, removing the blood that had dried there as well as that on her hands. Her hands never seemed to quite get clean enough though, and she kept scrubbing at them. After a while she realized that she would end up rubbing her hands raw and had to willfully stop herself.

Removing herself from the pond, she found her clothes still needing to dry. And it was then that her empty stomach made itself known to her. She knew she needed to find food but she didn't like the idea of wandering through the forest half-naked. The alternative though was to sit idly, waiting for her clothes to dry. And that, to her, was an even worse idea.

So she went in search for food, being careful of where she placed her bare feet. She started looking around the pond, circling it, with her circles widening with each pass. In her hunt she came across some berries and a few mushrooms that, she had learned from Monty, were okay to eat. She piled them onto her hand and arm that she held tightly to her body. She had nothing to carry water in but at least she could store her finds in the pockets of her jacket.

She had been searching for hours and it was then that a realization hit her. As long as she had something she needed to do, she was able to keep her ghosts at bay. She knew at that moment the real reason why she had left and walked away from Camp Jaha.

Ever since the Drop Ship had landed on the ground there was always something that she needed to be doing. First, it was trying to find the supplies they were told about, and then it was rescuing Jasper and trying to keep him alive. Then there were the others that had needed medical attention. Amidst that, she had tried to create some order and rules where Bellamy had only chaos. Then it was finding Raven and trying to signal those on the Arc, hoping to save over 300 lives. After that she was trying to save them all from the Grounders. Next came her escape from Mount Weather and then trying to form an alliance and creating plans to rescue those who were held captive.

With always having something to do, something that could not wait, she had had no time to let her mind think beyond the present moment. And walking everyone back to the camp, with no one left to save and no one needing her protection; she must have known that she would have nothing left to focus her attention on and that everything would finally catch up with her. So she had walked away, hoping that it would be enough to keep her attention; to keep all her demons locked deep inside where she couldn't see them or have to acknowledge them.

But as she had found, simply walking was not enough. She needed to find another purpose for herself. Looking for food and bathing had worked for a short while but she knew she could not do that all the time. She needed a greater purpose, something that would consume all her time and thoughts.

As she tried to come up with an idea, she decided she had collected enough food and turned to head back towards the pond. It was as she was slowly making her way back, being careful not to drop what she had just collected, that she felt as though she was being watched. She turned full circle, scanning the woods surrounding her, unable to see anything other than the trees and bushes, but still she felt as if eyes were on her.

She moved quickly then, back to the pond and her clothes and her gun. She didn't know if she was simply being paranoid after her short time alone, but she knew she would feel a whole lot safer when she wasn't half-naked and she held her gun in her hand.

Making it back to the rock and her now dry clothes, she placed the berries and mushrooms that she hadn't dropped into a dimple on the rock and quickly put on her clothes. As soon as she had her boots on and tied up she went to reach for her gun, only to find that she didn't know where it was. She thought back to before her bath and couldn't remember doing anything with her gun when she had rid herself of her clothing.

Thinking that she may have smartly left the gun on dry land before crawling into the pond fully clothed, she checked the area where she had slept but found nothing. She traced back the few feet that she had crawled and where she had fallen, but still no gun. Desperately, she plunged into the pond, soaking her boots and pants for the second time, and searched the floor of the pond only to come up empty.

Had the person who had been watching her been here and taken her gun? Or had she accidently dropped it somewhere in the last couple days? Was someone out there, getting closer to her now? Or was there no one at all?

As she scanned the woods around the pond for any sign of someone, she no longer had the sensation of being watched. However, she could not shake the feeling that someone was out there. And with that thought came another.

What about the other pieces of the fallen Arc? What if there were other survivors at the other crash sites? They had never been able to get the radio working properly to try and contact other possible survivors. If there were other survivors, they probably wouldn't know where to go to find the others. She would go and find them and then she would show them where they needed to go. She had found her new purpose.

Quickly collecting her gathered food and storing it in her jacket pockets, she set off, not wanting to stick around and find out there actually was someone stalking her and that they had her gun. And while the thought of venturing farther out on her own without anything to protect herself with was very frightening, she had found something to focus on, a goal that she had set for herself and she was determined to see it through.

Without knowing where she was and where she should start looking for possible survivors, she thought the best course of action would be to find high ground. She needed to find a place high enough that she would be able to see far into the distance and hopefully determine where she was. So she headed for the closest incline and started climbing.

Once she reached its highest point she looked for the next highest and then climbed to the top of that. The rest of her day continued in the same fashion while periodically eating some of the food from her pockets and stopping to drink some water whenever she came across some. And all throughout her travels, every once in a while, she would feel as though someone was watching her. Of course every time she looked no one could be seen. She figured if someone was really there, then surely they didn't mean her any harm. If they did, they would have done something already.

She suspected that the truth was that no one was actually there and that it was only her imagination. No one from Camp Jaha, who might have tried to follow her, would be quiet enough or know enough to not be spotted. She didn't think any of the Grounders would follow her around after what had transpired at Mount Weather. And no one from Mount Weather had lived. Therefore, she could only assume her imagination was getting the best of her and that she was completely alone.

She had been making her way up a fairly steep incline when she began to notice that the soil and moss had given way mostly to rock and the density of the trees grew thinner and thinner. She also noticed that the sky before her was losing light by the minute. She quickened her pace and soon found herself standing at the top of a very high cliff. She had finally found the high ground that she had been looking for.

She looked out onto the valley below and tried to take in all she could in the dying light. She was able to make out the shape of Mount Weather in the distance. It was almost directly East of where she now stood. And now she had a rough idea of where she was.

When she faced the direction she had just come from she saw the sun setting on the horizon. The sun had almost disappeared but the sky around it was afire with vibrant pinks and oranges. She had never seen anything like it and she stood watching until the very last drop of color drained from the sky.

With the world now dark around her she once again looked out onto the valley, hoping to see a light or a fire, something to point her in the direction she needed to go. And it was as she was searching that she noticed a light growing brighter close to Mount Weather.

It looked as though it was a small fire at first but slowly grew in size and intensity. She thought she could even see the flames from where she stood on the cliff. She knew that if she could see the flames from that far away that the fire had to be enormous. And it was then that she knew what she was seeing.

She remembered the conversation she had had with Monty as they made their way back to Camp Jaha. He had asked her what was going to happen to the dead inside the mountain; if they were just going to be left there. She remembers telling him that it wouldn't be right to do that, especially for those who had helped them, especially for the children. He had replied that it would end up being a lot of graves to dig.

She suggested that they should burn them like the Grounders did with their dead, that, "With fire, they could cleanse the pain of the past." She told him it could be a beautiful way to say goodbye to the dead. She told him that Raven and Bellamy and a few others at the camp would be able to help him. When he questioned her why it sounded like she wasn't going to help, like she wasn't going to be there, she had quickly looked back at Jasper who was walking with his head hanging and tears falling down his cheeks, and said that she wouldn't be wanted there.

She had said it would be nice if they did three different ceremonies: one for those who had helped them like Maya, one for the children who were too young to really know what was going on, and one for all the rest.

He asked her then why they should bother showing any courtesy for those who were willing to let them die. She responded without thinking, saying that whether they deserved it or not, every person inside the mountain had longed and dreamed for the ground, and this way, at least in death, they would be able to see that dream realized. That they would be able to become a part of the world they had longed for as their ashes flew away with the wind. That for their sacrifice, they could finally go home.

She remembered the way Monty had looked at her then, and she remembered looking away from him slightly embarrassed by the words that had poured from her mouth. He simply nodded at her and said he would make sure it was done. She then asked him to tell no one that it had been her idea, that certain people would probably not appreciate the gesture as much if they knew it came from her. He had tried to argue that it wouldn't be the case but in the end he had agreed.

His last question was, then where would the idea come from. Her eyes had searched those around her and then they landed on the perfect person; the right person. Her reply to him was simple: Bellamy was all she said.

Now, as she looked upon the fire raging in the distance, she could feel what was left of her crumbling and splitting and breaking inside her. The tears poured freely from her eyes once again and she felt herself crumple to her knees, the weight of it all crushing her. Gut-wrenching sobs escaped from her mouth, tearing her from the inside as they forced their way out. Her grief and guilt and shame took control of her body and spilt every ounce of what remained onto the rocks below her.

She was so consumed in her breakdown that she did not notice the figure that had stepped out from the cover of the trees below her. She didn't see them take a few steps towards her before hesitating and coming to a stop. She didn't see as they turned from her and slowly walked away, leaving her to fall apart on her own.

She was only barely aware of the sobs spilling from her lips, the tears that fell from her eyes and the shaking that wracked her body. It was all she knew before her energy was spent and sleep claimed her for its own.


	4. Chapter 4

**A big thank you to those who have favorited, followed or commented on this story. I promise I am going somewhere with this and I have my reasons for putting Clarke through everything I have. Please enjoy.**

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She is freezing when she next wakes. She can feel rain drops hitting her with force and the wind whipping around her prone body. She can hear the crack and rumble of thunder and, every so often, she can see a flash of light through the closed lids of her eyes. When she opens them, she finds herself precariously close to the edge of the cliff and a thought crosses through her mind that she should probably move back. She is unable to detect any sense of urgency though as she lazily moves away from the ledge.

She is unable to tell if the lack of fear or urgency regarding her own safety is a product of the fact she is soaking wet and frozen or if it has more to do with the brokenness she feels inside. She feels as though she has fallen into an abyss that is so deep and so dark that she will never be able to find her way out of it. And she thinks that perhaps she does not deserve to.

Seeing the fires in the distance; knowing that the people of Mount Weather were being turned to ash and finally being allowed to go home, as she had put it to Monty; had been her tipping point. The knowledge that he had followed through on what she had told him had been the last straw and she could no longer deny all that she had done. Those fires had blazed because Monty had done what she had asked of him. And she had had to ask him to do so because she had killed all those people. She knew that she did it to save her people, her friends, her mother, but that no longer seemed like a legitimate reason to end the lives of an entire civilization.

Every decision she had made since arriving on the ground had been made to try and keep the 100 alive and safe. She had made those decisions with what knowledge she had at the time and she wonders if she would make the same choices again if she had the chance to go back. She had mostly gone on instinct and desperation and the need to protect everyone. In the end though, to protect those she cared about, she had killed so many people. She had wanted to be like her father and help everyone only to end up like those that had killed him.

Her father had been everything she wanted to be. He was loving and kind and smart and loved to laugh. He was also the kind of person that believed everyone should know the truth, not just the few. He was the kind of man that believed in the people, that they would do the right thing and come together to help everyone. He was the kind of person who believed so strongly in his convictions and his love for his family that he was willing to die to do what he thought was right.

Her father had been willing to lose his life to try and help people, and she became the kind of person who took lives to try and help people. She thinks that he must be so disappointed in her. That if she were to ever see him again, that he wouldn't even be able to look at her. She was nothing like the daughter that he had raised. She had changed so much in so little time and she hates what she has become.

She remembers telling Finn that what they had done to survive didn't define them. She now shares his fear that she might have been wrong, that what they had done is who they now are. There is a small whisper of hope in the back of her mind that that isn't the case, but it is a very quiet whisper and hard to hear.

She wonders how she got to be the person who made the choices that she had and she thinks it started all the way back to the day on the Arc when she watched her father be floated. He had hugged her and told her he loved her and all she could think was that she didn't deserve to hear those words because it was her fault. She didn't deserve to still have his love when he was about to die because of her.

She had spent a year hating Wells because she believed he was the one who told Jaha about her father's plans. She spent a year hating him because of his supposed betrayal. She spent a year hating him because she believed he was the reason she lost her father as well as her best friend. But more than she hated Wells for all those things, she hated herself. She was the one who trusted him. She was the one who told him. She had believed she was the one who got her father killed.

Finn had been close when he had told her that he thought she was trying so hard to save everyone because she hadn't been able to save her father. The truth was she had been trying so hard because she had felt that she had his death to make up for. She had tried so hard because she wanted to earn his forgiveness. She had tried so hard because she had wanted to be like her father.

She is nothing like her father though, at least not anymore. He had trusted in the people, and as she found out from her mother, he had been right. She trusted the wrong person and because of that she had been responsible for the deaths of hundreds. She had so much blood on her hands and the fact that she had rescued her friends would not be able to wash it away.

Something hits her as she lies on the ground and her eyes open to see a branch from a tree lying across her torso. She manages to push it off her and when she does she is greeted with the sight of Finn standing before her. He looks much like he did when he haunted her after his death and he offers her no words now just as he did then.

She had quoted Lexa to his ghost, telling him that love was weakness, and pushed her feelings for him down to where she thought she wouldn't have to face them again. She had been naïve then to think that she could so easily turn her back on her emotions. She had even called Lexa out. She had been the one to back Lexa into a table while stating that Lexa stilled cared despite the act she put on to show otherwise. She should have known then that he would come back for her but she had still been trying to deny her own emotions.

He looked down at her now with a look that seemed to mean, "Look where you are now."

"I should have listened to you back then, when you warned me about the path we were heading down," she said aloud to him, her voice even more raw and raspy than usual.

His expression doesn't change, she watches as he merely tilts his head to the side. She wonders if it really would have mattered though. She wonders if she would have been able to broker a truce between them and the Grounders earlier on. It hadn't gone well the first time and with what it had taken in order to create an alliance with them in the end, she doubts it could have been done.

Perhaps if they hadn't tried to fight, if they had simply tried to leave and go somewhere else, maybe things could have been different then. But there is no way for her to know that they would have been any better off. They could have come across another clan of Grounders and been killed by them or they could have slowly died from weather conditions or natural predators or starvation. There were far too many what ifs to really be certain.

Finn turns his head away from her then and looks towards the trees. When she follows his gaze she sees Maya standing in the tree line. She looks as she did in the beginning, not at the end. There are no signs of the radiation burns covering her skin and Clarke can almost pretend that she hadn't actually pulled the lever; that it had only be some sick nightmare and she had finally woken up. But she knows that it isn't true because Maya would not be able to survive the ground without a suit.

As Clarke continues to stare at Maya the burns start to appear on her skin, spreading quickly until she looks as she did when Clarke had last seen her, lying in Jasper's arms. She makes no sounds as it happens and no look of anguish or pain is seen on her face. She simply stares at Clarke with an accusing look and Clarke is unable to look away. She knows it is her fault, that she killed Maya and that she deserves to be accused. Clarke tries to tell Maya that she is sorry, but her voice is weak and it is easily carried away on the wind.

Maya simply stares at her for a few seconds longer before turning away from Clarke and walking farther into the trees. Clarke again tries to apologize but the wind only blows harder and sweeps her words away. She looks back to Finn for help only to see him looking down at his chest as the stain of blood begins to grow from where she had stabbed him. His head rises so that his eyes once again meet hers and the accusation in them can be clearly seen. He, too, then turns from her and starts walking away towards the trees.

She tries to go after them both but her muscles and joints are frozen and refuse to obey. It takes her minutes before she is able to get to her hands and knees. It takes even longer till she is standing unsteadily. She finds she is unable to take a step and resorts to shuffling her feet forward. Her progress is slow and clumsy and she falls to her knees repeatedly. Each time she manages to get back on her feet though, and continues to move forward.

It seems to take her hours before she makes it to the first tree and she leans against it to rest. She searches the woods ahead of her, looking to see where Finn and Maya may have gone. She finds them about 20 yards farther in, standing together and once again staring at her. The burns still marring Maya's skin and the blood still seeping from Finn's chest. As one, they turned and continued walking down the mountain and away from her.

Clarke takes her weight back from the tree she had been leaning against and starts after them. Her progress continues to be unsteady but she is able to stay on her feet by using the trees for support. She tries to find Finn and Maya again and notices that they are getting farther away from her. She tries to quicken her pace but trips on the uneven ground and is sent hard to the ground. As she falls she manages to get her arms in front of her and her head hits them instead of the rock below her.

In that moment, all she wants is to just give up. She doesn't want to keep trying. She doesn't want to keep moving. She doesn't want to keep fighting. She doesn't want to keep caring. She doesn't want to keep making choices. She doesn't want to do anything but lie there and let everything fade away around her. But ever since the day her dad was taken away and killed, what she wants doesn't really seem to matter. So she pushes her body back up until she is on her feet again and she continues forward.

She tries to concentrate on where she places her feet and which trees and branches she holds onto while continually searching for Finn and Maya in amongst the trees below her. She makes it to where she thinks she last saw Finn and Maya and takes a moment to scan the woods for them. She is unable to see any sign of them but knows that she has to keep going.

With her next step her foot is sliding along the muddy ground and then she is falling through the air. She doesn't fall far, maybe only five feet, but she lands hard on her right wrist and hears something snap. She feels the pain cut through her like a sharp knife and feels a wave of nausea hit her with force. As the contents of her stomach spill onto the earth, the pain drags her into the darkness.

* * *

When the darkness releases its hold on her she awakens to pain and coldness. The rain still continues to fall and the wind continues to blow; the storm unyielding overhead.

Clarke manages to roll over onto her back and cradles her right wrist to her body. She is sure that it is broken but knows she has to check and be sure. She had enough light to guide herself through the trees but not enough to thoroughly inspect her wrist and the quick flashes of illumination from the lightening are also inadequate.

With only one other option she uses her left hand and tries to gently check her injured wrist but pain shoots up her arm with each probe from her fingers and the slightest amount of pressure. She is in a great deal of pain when she finally finishes but she was able to find the point of the break where it had punctured through her skin. Knowing that she couldn't leave her wrist as it was she tried to think of a way to reset the bones.

Soon she is squirming through the mud towards a pair of trees that had grown out of the ground very close together. Once she reaches the trees she moves herself so that she is on one side of the first tree and the second tree is on the other. She turns herself so that her right side is against the tree and then she slowly moves her right arm between the two trees. She places her arm so that the tree is sitting in the crook of her elbow and then lowers it until it is securely wedged between the two trees.

The pain caused by placing her arm between the trees is immense and she isn't sure if she is actually going to be able to continue. She takes a few minutes to try and calm her breathing and to try and work up the courage to do what she has to do. Once she feels that she is as ready as she is going to be, she takes a hold of her right hand with her left and braces her body against the tree.

She hesitates only a few more seconds, takes one last breath, and then pulls with all her strength and pushes the bones back to where they are supposed to be. A scream bursts from her lips only to be swallowed by a crack of thunder and a flash of light bursts before her eyes as the pain that is ripping through her, once again drags her into the darkness.

* * *

She awoke to find the storm still raging but it was slightly easier to see her surroundings and she wondered if the sun had risen behind the clouds. Pain still pulsed from her arm though it had lessened from what it had been and she was still soaked and cold from the rain.

She was actually able to see her arm in the gloom now and saw that blood still seeped from the point where her bone had pierced through it. Trying not to cause more damage, she slowly worked her arm free from between the two trees and brought it to her front. With her left hand she tore at her shirt until she had a piece of fabric large enough to wrap around the wound. She did so and felt the sting of pain as she pulled it tight.

With the wound covered she began to search her surroundings for a few branches to splint her arm with. She found three that would work and broke one in half to make four in total. She ripped three buckles from her boots and used them to secure the four pieces of wood to her arm to ensure it wouldn't move. She then tucked her hand and secured it under the strap of her jacket to keep her arm up and out of the way.

Exhausted from her efforts, she slide partway down the tree until she was more comfortable and closed her eyes. Behind her lids played the images of blood and sickness and pain and her need to hide from them was more powerful than her need to rest. Her eyes opened and she blinked several times in an attempt to wipe the images from her mind. Once her blinking subsided however, her gaze locked onto a presence standing above her.

Charlotte stared down at her from where she had fallen. Her eyes haunted and scared, much as they had been when Clarke had last seen them.

Where Clarke had sought after Finn and Maya, she did not want to face Charlotte. She didn't know how to deal with her ghost and needed to be away from it. So in an attempt to escape the haunted eyes of the child Clarke scrambled to her feet and tried to run. Almost immediately she tripped over a tree root and crashed back into the earth, luckily landing on her left side and not reinjuring her broken wrist.

She tried to get back to her feet but the mud that covered the ground was almost making it impossible. Her feet and her left hand kept sliding out from under her and she landed on her bad wrist a few times, sending pain shooting up her arm. She managed to get steadily on her hand and knees and was about to try to get to her feet when she saw a pair of feet out of the corner of her eye.

Though she was afraid to see who the feet belonged to, she looked over anyway and saw that Charlotte was now right beside her. The look in her eyes was that much stronger up close and Clarke actually shrunk away from it. She moved away from Charlotte and found a tree to use to get herself on her feet, her eyes never once leaving Charlotte's.

Once on her feet she finally turned her head away from the image of Charlotte, a few feet from her, only to see her now, right beside the tree that she clung to. Upon seeing her so close Clarke began to back away from her yet again. A few feet back and Clarke slipped in the mud again and fell, her back hitting a tree behind her on her way down.

Charlotte did not move from where she stood but the accusations in her eyes seemed to reach out and try to strangle Clarke where she sat. Not knowing what else to do Clarke could only think of escape. She managed to work her way up the tree behind her and turned and ran.

She was only able to run for a short time though, her body and muscles protesting against the exertion. However, she was unable to stop moving because every time she looked behind her she could see Charlotte only feet away from where she was. So Clarke kept moving, bumping into trees and pushing her way through low branches, falling occasionally but returning to her feet so that Charlotte could not catch up to her.

Clarke stopped for nothing for the rest of the day, the only thing on her mind being the need to get away from Charlotte. Charlotte who was always a few feet from her whenever she dared to look; dared to hope that she was free of her. But Clarke could not leave her behind no matter how long or how far she walked.

Clarke only stopped when her body gave out below her, unable and unwilling to carry her further. She closed her eyes to avoid the image of Charlotte that she was sure to see if they remained open. She allowed her exhaustion to carry her into the dreamland, hoping that sleep would give her some peace. Her dreams were not dreams though, but nightmares, and she was haunted in her sleep as well.

* * *

When she awoke the next day her body ached as did her head and the rain still fell to the earth. When she opened her eyes to the day she was not greeted by the sight of Charlotte before her and she felt a great relief. Upon turning her head to the side however, she saw Wells standing above her. In his eyes she saw accusations and betrayal.

Like the day before, she thought only of running away, so she did. She walked without stopping and without thinking. She didn't pause to drink water when she came across it, she didn't pick any berries to eat when walked through a bush of them. She saw and thought only of escape.

She walked for an entire day before her body gave way again and she fell into a sleep full of nightmares. Each day after that continued in the same fashion, the only thing that changed was who haunted her. After Wells it was Anya's second, the child she had failed to save. Then it was the Grounder whose throat she had slit and then watched as the life drained from his body. Next it was Anya and then after that it was Dante.

Each day she tried to escape the ghosts that followed her and each day she failed. She walked until she could walk no more. She didn't drink, she didn't eat, and with each passing day she walked less and less and slept more and more. Each day she would collapse sooner than the day before and her thoughts and vision began to become more and more fuzzy. The rain never ceased and her nightmares were unending.

It was while she was trying to get away from Dante that she tripped over a log that she should have seen and fell forward, her heading hitting a rock on the ground. What sight she still had went dark for over a minute before light started to filter in again and she could feel the blood dripping down the side of her face. Her eyes focused on a shadow above her and saw Dante looking down at her, blood on his shirt from where she had shot him.

She rolled away from him to see Wells standing beside her. When she looked over her shoulder, it was Maya who she saw next. Although her body was incredibly weak, Clarke found enough strength to stand once again in order to get away. She looked around her and saw a crowd of people looming closer and closer to her. She saw Finn and Charlotte and Atom along with Anya and a lot of the other grounders. She saw those from Mount Weather, adults and kids alike.

They were in a circle around her and they kept coming closer to her, she could feel the air getting thinner and she knew they were going to smother her. She saw a slight space between Maya and a child and she moved for it. She pushed between them and broke away from her tormentors.

She struggled to keep herself on her feet and she ran, desperation pushing her forward when everything else was trying to hold her back. She could barely make out the land in front of her and without her being aware she had left the trees behind and was climbing over rocks.

At one point she found herself slipping on a boulder and tried to find something to grab onto. With only her left hand to use though, she was unable to find a handhold and before she knew it she was twisting and falling. Then as she neared the ground, her right foot landed between a couple of rocks and became wedged. The rest of her body kept falling backwards and she felt her leg snap just before her back and head hit the ground.

* * *

When Clarke regained consciousness the only thing she could feel was pain. She was unable to move, she found it hard to breathe and she could barely keep a coherent thought in her head. She was unable to do anything but lie there, so that is what she did. She laid there with her eyes shut to everything but the pain.

As the time passed her pain seemed to lessen and Clarke was finally able to find a singular thought in her mind. She was finally going to die. There, in that place, and at that time, she was going to die. She felt ready for the end then. There would be no more fighting, no more pain, no more death. She would finally find the peace that had eluded her since her father had been taken.

With the thought of death so close, the fear that had driven her her last few days vanished. She opened her eyes, unafraid of what she might see when she did. Her eyes only showed her a great white light though, an almost blinding light, and she thought that this was it.

The light began to dim a little and within it she saw a shadow begin to appear. The shadow became less fuzzy and the form of a man began to take shape. Soon the image cleared and Clarke was looking at the image of her father. He looked quite sad and slowly shook his low hanging head before raising it to look her in the eyes. As she stared at him, he opened his mouth and said six words to her.

Six words from him and she could feel the tears falling from the corners of her eyes. Six words and then his image was fading from her along with the light and color of the world. Six words before the darkness began to surround her for the last time. She had been ready to die and then her father had said six words and all she wanted to do was live. But it was too late; she was already fading from the world, and with her last breath before the blackness claimed her for its own she repeated his words in her mind.

"Not yet, Kiddo. Not like this."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay in updating but life got in the way like it tends to do. I hope to not go as long in between updates but I don't want to make any promises. Thank you to those who are still giving me a chance and are continuing to read this, you are awesome!**

**Also, I decided to change the point of view to first person. Sorry for any confusion, I just wanted to try something different.**

* * *

The year I spent locked in a cell on the Ark I thought a lot about what it would feel like to die. I figured that death was going to be the only thing waiting for me when I finally turned eighteen. Sure, I got the story that I would be given a fair review on my birthday and the chance to be released, but I knew it was just that, a story. There was no way they were going to let me live with the knowledge that I had. It was the same reason they had kept me in solitary that entire time, with no visitors beyond the guards who would bring me my meals. I hadn't even been able to see my mother.

With so much free time I imagined dying and what it would feel like a million times, but in all those times I never imagined it would feel like this. I never once imagined that the pain would linger or that it would feel this intense after death. The complete and utter blackness that I found myself in; that I had thought of and quite often, but the pain, I always thought the pain would end once you died; that the suffering would finally be over.

I should have known that it would not be the case for me, after everything I had done. I would not be allowed to know peace, and to be honest, I knew I didn't deserve to, but I had still hoped.

Searing pain scorches through whatever remains of me and I know if I had the ability to scream, I would. But there is no scream, no noise at all, there is no release; there is only pain. I think that perhaps what I am feeling now is the same pain that Raven and my mother had felt when they were being harvested, and that thought leads to another. My mom, Raven, Jasper, Octavia, Monty, Bellamy; I had failed them all, numerous times, and now I would never get the chance to make it up to them. Not that I would have been able to, every time I tried to help anyone I only seemed to make things worse.

I couldn't save anyone.

I had hoped that when we found that the ground was survivable, that we all would have a second chance to do better than we had on the Ark. For me, it seems, it wouldn't be the case. The words that I had spoken after the battle at the Drop Ship, "Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds," became far too fitting. I became responsible for so many deaths and I was actually responsible for the annihilation of an entire group of people. I had completely ruined my second chance, and now I would not be given a third.

The pain, though it never leaves, becomes unbearable yet again and I wonder if I am in hell. I remember reading about the religions of old and I remember reading about heaven and hell, and a place called purgatory. I knew that after what I had done and what I currently felt that I could not possibly be in heaven. That was a place that sounded like the best of everything in one where everyone was happy and there was peace. It was possible that I could be in purgatory but that still seemed to be too good for me. To constantly be in pain and to have no escape from my thoughts and the knowledge of what I had been capable of and what I had done; that was what I deserved and it sounded an awful lot like how they talked about hell.

I guess I had to except that this would be my existence for the rest of time. I know it is what I deserve, I really do, but a part of me still feels like I maybe I don't. I had done what I had in order to save my friends and the people who were looking to me to save them. I had killed in order to save; just like Jaha, my mother and Kane had on the Ark, just like Lexa had, just like Dante and Cage had. We were all the same.

It made me wonder where it would finally end. Three of us were no longer a part of the equation but I couldn't help but wonder if the others would continue to make the same choices now. I liked to believe that my mother would make better choices than she had on the Ark. She sure didn't like some of the choices that I had made and she truly seemed to want things to be different. I also believe that Kane wanted the same things that she did. That left Lexa. Would she end up putting Kane and my mother in a position where they would have to make impossible choices like I had? And if so, would they make the same decisions that I did, or would they make different ones? Would they be able to find a better way?

I truly hoped that they would not ever have to make those kinds of decisions again. I hoped that they could all finally know peace; that they could come together like we had when the Ark was formed. I remember telling Finn that peace had been created from violence all those years ago on Unity Day, perhaps that can be true again now. I then remember that Finn had questioned whether or not violence had been needed in the first place and I once again question everything that I did since falling to the earth. I wonder how different things could be if I had listened to him right from the beginning.

As always, thinking of Finn makes me think of his final moments and I think of all the pain he went through because of me. And it is in thinking of his pain that I come to the realization that I can barely feel my own any more. The pain that had been immense and present since I had died had dulled to a slight throb. And with that realization I also became aware of the sense of motion. Almost as if I was floating through space, or what I imagined it would have felt like.

Maybe I wasn't in hell after all. Maybe this was purgatory and there were different stages or levels of it and I had just gone through the first one. Then again, maybe there were no such things as heaven or hell or purgatory, maybe there was only what I was going through now; some messed up version of an afterlife. I honestly have no idea about where I am, what I am going through, or if there is a purpose to any of it; I only know what I had hoped for when I knew I was dying. I had hoped to see my dad again. I had hoped to see Wells and Charlotte and I had hoped to see Finn. I had hoped to realize what the point of everything was. But I didn't get any of that; all I got was this blackness.

* * *

Time passes, the feeling of motion comes and goes, the pain rises and falls. My thoughts fade from one thing to the next and the more I think about things the more confused I become. At times I wish I still had a chance to do things differently, at others I just want it all to be over, to become nonexistent. I am split between wanting to join my dad, Finn and Wells wherever they may be and wanting to be with my mom, Bellamy, Raven and Octavia again. I am scared to find out what is next for me but I am also tired of waiting to know what it might be.

More time passes and it almost seems as if it doesn't actually exist anymore. At least when I was locked up on the Ark I was able to count the time between meals and count the passing of the days. Being able to measure the time made things a little more bearable, but now I have nothing. Each moment is endless and that is made even more maddening because I cannot get away from my thoughts or memories for even a second. I am once again locked in a prison…at least this time I actually did something to deserve being put in it.

I again think of all my actions, the choices I made and the people I hurt in my short life. I think of everyone I had left behind when I walked away from Camp Jaha that day. Knowing now that I was going to die, I should have said goodbye to everyone, not just Bellamy. Some would have been happy to see me go while others, like Bellamy had, would have tried to get me to stay. But at least I would have said goodbye to them. I think of how it will affect my mom and I know now how selfish it was of me not to.

I am uncertain on whether I want them to know that I am now dead. I don't know if it would be better to have the closure of knowing that I will never return, or if it would be better that they think I am out there somewhere; that they might one day see me again. I do know that I want them to finally have whatever is best for them. They all deserve to know the kind of happiness I once knew before everything happened.

It is hard to believe that I actually was happy at one point in my life. Back when my dad was still alive and I didn't know that the Ark was dying. I may have yearned for something I never thought I would ever see, but I was still happy. I wonder though, if that happiness was true when I was so ignorant of the truth. But then I wonder if we ever really know the whole truth of anything. I wonder if it is worth it to know the truth of anything. It seems to me that the truth only brings pain and destruction to those that know it. Maybe it is better to stay ignorant, at least that way we have a chance of being happy.

Suddenly the pain comes roaring back and I am once again in agony. I feel the pain everywhere and it is almost as if I am still inside my body somehow. I can feel the pain shooting through my arms and legs and into my head. It doesn't make any sense to me and as I try to sift through the pain and figure out what exactly is happening to me, a brief thought flits across my mind that perhaps…

But then the pain starts to ease away again and the thought is lost to me. My mind once again returns to the people I had known in my life. The ones I had loved, the ones I had hurt and the ones I had killed. I remember reading how some people believed that you faced a form of judgement when you died and I wonder, if that was true when would I face mine? How would I fair against those who were to be my judges? Was there any hope for me left at all?

As I think these thoughts I start to feel a new type of sensation; almost like something is stirring somewhere inside of me. And then almost without my realizing it, a lightness starts to appear before me. It is not a piercing light, nothing bright in anyway, just less black or dark in certain places. I can almost make out odd forms in the blackness and I watch as they float past me again and again.

Once again I feel as though I am moving somehow and I wonder if perhaps I am the one moving past the shapes I see instead of them moving by me. It is a weird thought to have and it brings to mind the image of the river Styx. Maybe I was on a boat being taken to the Underworld of ancient Greek mythology. That would seem rather fitting actually.

I ponder a few different possibilities as the time continues to pass. As it does I feel the pain start to return as well, though it doesn't increase to the intensity it had before. I notice that the shapes that move through my vision are starting to become more visible; there is more of a difference now between the shades of black that I see.

I am aware of only the pain, the feeling of movement, and the visions that glide before me as the time continues to pass. I wonder if my dad, Wells, Finn and Charlotte all experienced the same things as I was now when they died. While a part of me hopes that they did, because then it would mean that I might get to see them again, another part of me hopes that they never had to feel the pain that I have felt; that they never had to go so long in the darkness like I had.

I return my attention once again to the visions before me and find that there is now more light than darkness. Most of what I can see now seems white with what look to be shadows passing beside me. I am still having a hard time trying to make out what the shadows might be but they almost look like trees at times. Perhaps it was just my mind seeing images that I longed to see. I had spent so much of my life drawing them that it would make sense that I would see them now in the shadows. We, as human beings, have a habit of seeing what we want to see.

Then I slowly become aware of sound again. There is a sound like wind or water flowing that reaches my ears and I realize that it has been present for quite some time now; I have only just become aware of it and I wonder why it has reached me only now.

The pain that has been constant for the last while suddenly spikes again and I groan in agony. I actually hear myself groan. My shock at hearing myself is almost as great as the pain and I almost miss the feeling of suddenly coming to a stop. I see that the dark shapes about me are no longer moving through my vision; everything has stilled. I wonder if this is when I finally face my judgement.

But then something moves through my vision and seems to move towards me. This dark shape does not look like the others that I had seen, it almost looks human in nature. It comes closer still but I can't make out any details in its form. Slowly, one thing becomes clear; one detail of the form before me takes shape and I can see it perfectly. A pair of brown eyes are staring back into mine and before I can react in any way I hear a soft voice speak out to me.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, little seed. Your fight is not yet over….it has only just begun."

I then watch as a hand passes over my face and I am once again in darkness; the eyes disappearing from my sight. There are so many thoughts racing through my mind but one is louder and more prominent than the rest: I am still alive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is chapter 6. My apologies again for the delay, I was having some issues with writers block. I know where I want to go with this and certain things I want to happen but I was finding it hard getting there and it didn't feel right to just cut to those moments.**

* * *

I am alive. This thought alone circles through my mind repeatedly, never ending in its journey. I am alive. I am alive. I am alive.

I feel that we have been moving for quite some time now though I am also aware that I may be going in and out of consciousness. Every so often I open my eyes and see tree tops passing overhead but before long the brightness becomes too much and I have to close them again, though lately it hasn't been as bad. I am not sure if it is because my eyes are becoming used to the light or if it because the daylight is fading.

In the moments when I am able to take in my surroundings I try to determine what I can about my circumstances. From what I have been able to tell, I am strapped down on some kind of stretcher and I am being dragged by the person with the brown eyes, or at least that is what I assume. I can tell that I am being dragged because I am moving backwards and I can't see anyone before me. And I can't be sure, but I believe there is only one person with me because I haven't heard them speak since I first heard them.

Granted, I do not know any of this for certain. There are moments when I think that the voice and the eyes were just a dream, that I really am dead after all. But then I wonder if you are able to dream when you are dead. It has become a torturous mind game and I search for something, some kind of sign to tell me which is true. If I could just know for certain if I was alive or dead then I could worry about everything else after that.

The hardest part is that I am not completely sure which I want to be true: alive or dead. If I am alive that means that I have a chance to see my friends and family again, even if not all of them want to see me. It would mean that I had the chance to right so many of my wrongs or at least try to make up for them. It would mean that I had another chance to do things better. However, it also meant that I could end up making everything a whole lot worse too; just like I did before. I could end up hurting even more people or hurt the same people all over again. That thought alone makes me hope that I am not alive.

If it turns out that I am, in fact, dead, it would mean that I couldn't hurt anyone ever again or take another life, and I really like the sound of that. It would mean that I would never have to make another hard choice or an impossible decision. It would mean that I would never have to be a leader again or be responsible for anyone. It would mean that I would no longer be weak. It also meant that I would never smile again, or laugh, or feel happy, or feel loved. It would mean that people would only ever remember me as a killer, a murderer, a bad person, a monster.

It seems to me to be another impossible decision. Although it isn't a decision at all at the moment, I am either alive or I am dead, there is no choice to make in the matter. I can only wait and find out what fate is in store for me.

Fate is another thing that I am unsure about. I remember Jaha mentioning it many times in his speeches and I believe the Grounders even have some belief in it. It is a weird concept, of our lives somehow already mapped out before us, of being destined to end up a certain way. As if somehow it was my fate to kill the Mountain Men. But I can't understand how that can be a fate of any kind. Why would fate allow them to survive the radiation and continue living all those years just to die together in one moment? And if it was fated to happen, why did it have to be me that ensured their fate? What was the point of any of it?

I can't seem to find any reasoning behind the things that have happened in my life; no greater meaning behind the events that have taken place. So personally I think the concepts of fate and destiny are just excuses for people who do not want to own up to their actions and where those actions led them. They don't want to take responsibility for who they are and the lives they have led and the decisions they have made, so they say it was their fate, their destiny, and they wash their hands of it all.

I wish I could be one of those people right now, but unfortunately I know the truth. I was the one who made the decisions that I had, I am the one responsible for who I became, no one else, just me. Sure I had people giving me their opinions and suggestions, people telling me what I should and shouldn't do, but I was the one who either listened to them or didn't. In the end it came down to me and the choices I made, that made me who I am. The blame can be put on no one else; not my parents, not my friends, not Lexa. I am my own person with my own mind, my choices were my own. And it is because of this, because I can only blame myself, that I hate who I am and what I have become.

* * *

I don't know how much time passes before I feel myself coming to a stop and then lowered to the ground. I open my eyes but I am greeted with only darkness once again. I try to gage something about my surroundings or my current situation but come up with very little. I can't see anything, I feel completely numb and I am unable to hear a single noise. The lack of any stimuli makes me think that perhaps I am actually dead and I have finally reached my final destination.

Then I hear a crack, like two stones hitting each other. The first crack is followed by a second, then a third and then a fourth. There are a few seconds of silence and I try to determine what it was that I heard. Before I can come up with anything a new sound starts. It sounds like a popping noise mixed with crackling that starts off slight but quickly grows louder. It is then that I notice a light that steadily grows in intensity from the corner of my eye and it chases away the shadows that surround me.

It is then that I realize that a fire has been lit somewhere to my right and as the time passes I can just start to feel the warmth that it is giving off. A fire has been lit but I still have not seen any sign of the one who started it. I have only seen the light dancing across the roof and the walls of what I can only assume is a cave based on the rocky and rugged texture that surrounds me. I can only hear the sound of the fire as it slowly eats away at the wood within it.

Slowly I can feel the heat as it starts to penetrate my clothing and seep its way into my skin. As the fire warms me the numbness I feel starts to fade and the pain starts to come back. It seems that the warmer I become the harsher the pain gets and before long I am writhing in agony all over again. I try to move my arms, my legs, anything in an effort to ease the pain but I can't move a single thing, whatever was holding me to the contraption I had been dragged on is still there, keeping me secure.

The pain keeps growing and I am absolutely powerless to stop it and I briefly think that this is what it must have been like for Lincoln when we had him chained and we were torturing him. It seems that the old adage of "what goes around comes around" is very true. I can hear myself groaning with the pain and before long the pain increases to a level that I actually scream. I hear it as it tears loose from my lips and echoes off the walls around me and it reminds me of the cries that Jasper had made when he had been fighting the infection.

It is as the echoes start to fade that I feel a weight on my shoulder and I open my eyes to see a dark shadow hovering over me. I cannot tell if it is the same person that spoke to me earlier because all I can see is shadow. I search for the same brown eyes that I saw before but the fire is behind them and it looks like they are wearing some kind of hood over their head; my searching is pointless.

Whoever it is seems to look me over for a minute before they focus their attention on my face. I feel fingertips ghost along my cheek and then a thumb caress my forehead before their hand is cradling the side of my face. I feel them lean a little closer to me and then I hear them speak.

"I am sorry Little Seed. I know that the warmth brings you pain but if I left you in the cold, you would surely die." The voice pauses for only a second before it continues, "I have run out of the medicine that can ease your pain for the moment but I will soon have more. You just have to stay strong until then."

And then they start to move away from me again and I feel the hand leave my face. I try to ask them to stay with me, that I don't want to be left alone but I am unable to form any words. Only a groan becomes audible and in a second the shadow is gone from my sight and I am unable to find it again. The pain feels like it is tearing me apart inside and I can't remember if the voice I just heard was the same as the one before. It becomes too hard for me to think of anything but the pain and I feel myself moving closer to unconsciousness.

Before I tip over the edge however, I have one last clear thought: with the fire, the warmth, the pain and the voice of the unknown person, I can no longer question the truth. As I realize with certainty that I am in fact still alive, every fiber of my being that is in pain wishes that I was dead.

* * *

I wake and find myself in the same white room that I awoke in after the battle at the drop ship. I am beyond confused as I sit up and look around at the stark white walls. How did I possibly end up here? The last thing I remember was being in some sort of cave and being in excruciating pain; a pain that I can no longer feel. Did the person who had been dragging me bring me here? That seems unlikely as that person had seemed nice and they wouldn't do that to me would they? But then I remember that there had been nice people here before I did what I did to them, like Maya. Maybe someone had survived and they had brought me back here to face my punishment.

Then a spark of hope ignites in me. I begin to imagine and hope with all my being that everything that had happened after the first time I woke in this room had only been a really horrible nightmare. I hope that it was some kind of vision of what could happen and I now have the chance to make sure none of it happens the same way as it had in my dream. I hope that I actually have the chance to save everyone, and that I won't mess it up this time.

With that thought in my head I stand from the bed and head for the door, ready to do things differently this time. I am shocked however when I find that the door is standing wide open before me. Hesitantly I make my way to the threshold and peer into the hallway. I am unable to see anyone in either direction and I inch my way to the door opposite my room where I had first seen Monty. I stand on my toes and look through the circle of glass only to find an empty room. I test the door handle and the door swings open with only a slight bit of pressure. I step inside and look around to see if someone was hiding in one of the corners that I couldn't see from the window but no one is there to be seen.

As I back out of the room I feel as though there is someone standing behind me and I quickly turn around to see who is waiting for me. Instead of being surprised by a figure standing close I am surprised to find that I am still alone in the hallway. I am tempted to call out to whoever might be inside this mountain but I hesitate. If this isn't some kind second chance; if everything actually happened and wasn't just a dream, did I want whoever brought me here to know that I am awake? Having the element of surprise might work better for me in that situation. So instead of calling out I proceed down the hallway as quietly as I can towards the elevators, peeking into each room as I pass them to make sure no one is locked in any of them.

I make my way down the hallway, through the open door at the end and all the way to the elevator without seeing a sign of any other presence here. I don't know how I am going to get to any of the other levels within this mountain without a key card but when I step in front of the elevator door it opens before me. I am afraid of stepping into the compartment; afraid that it is a trap and that I will be taken right to the person who brought me here but I can't remember any other way to get off this floor so I step into the waiting elevator and hear the doors close immediately behind me.

Within seconds I feel the compartment moving and I try to prepare myself for what I might have to deal with when the doors reopen. The possibilities are seemingly endless so I just try to make myself as alert as possible. I tense and release my muscles again and again hoping that I will be ready to react quickly to whatever might come my way and I try not to let my mind descend into the panic that wants to claim me. And just when I think I may lose that battle the compartment comes to a halt and the doors are thrown open at the same time.

No one is waiting for me on the other side of the doors and as I step into the hallway before me I find that I am still alone. I look at the walls and see that I have stepped into Level 5. The memories of what I last saw on this level try to overcome me in that instant and it takes almost all of my strength to keep them at bay. Now was not the time to let my emotions take over, I have to remain vigilant because I have no idea what might be in store for me.

The open doorway that led to the mess hall lay ahead of me and as much as I wanted to stay away from that room most of all, some unseen force pulled me toward it. Closer and closer I came to the doorway even though I was trying with all my might to run in the opposite direction. Before I know it I am standing in the middle of the doorway looking into the massive room and completely filled with shock.

Before me are hundreds of people. I watch as some of them sit at the tables and talk and laugh and eat. I watch as others walk from one table to another with smiles on their faces. I watch as children run between the tables, dodging chairs and grown-ups as they chase each other and as another couple of children kick a soccer ball around. They all look happy and carefree, as they should be, and I can feel the tears marking their way down my cheeks.

I continue to stand there and watch them, seemingly unnoticed, as they go about their lives in that moment. Too soon however I hear a scream sound out from within the room and it is quickly followed by another and then another. The screams multiply quickly and grow louder and louder and I watch as their faces start to turn red and blisters form on their hands and arms. Soon they are all covered with radiation burns and I can only stand there and watch as they suffer and start to die with their screams of agony piercing my ears.

I want to run from the sight and the noise as fast as I can but I cannot move my legs. I try to cover my ears to block the sound but I am unable to lift my arms. I attempt to close my eyes so that I will not have to witness the pain before me but they refuse to shut. I am unable to do anything but stand there and see and hear and witness every single moment of pain that each person in the room is experiencing.

It seems to go on for hours before the noise starts to lesson and I feel sick that I am relieved that it is almost over. And as the noise lessens even further I start to notice that the people are not crumpling forward in death as I had seen them do so before, instead I realize that they are all standing or sitting in place and they are all looking directly at me. A little boy in the front is staring at me with pain and hurt in his eyes and then he speaks.

"How could you do this to me?" he asks, "What did I do to you to deserve this?"

I don't know how to answer him and I choke on a sob as he continues to look at me, waiting for an answer. I don't know how to tell him that he did nothing; that I killed him because one man would not let my people go. I don't know how to voice why I made the decision I did because it just sounds so awful. So I say nothing as I stand there slowly shaking my head and letting the tears stream faster down my face.

Then a young woman sitting at a table to my left voices the same questions but I am still unable to answer. The questions are echoed by an older man standing near the back and it is followed by another voice to my right. Soon the room is once again filled with noise but instead of screams it is the same questions being asked over and over from every person in the room. The questions become louder and more demanding as the time passes and before I realize what is happening the crowd surges towards me as one. Their arms are outstretched and reaching towards me while their voices demand answers that I do not have. They come closer and closer to where I stand and I feel fear expanding within me.

I finally get my legs to move and I turn and run from the room as fast as I can but not before I feel hands clawing at my hair and my clothes. I run and run, trying to put as much distance between them and myself. I am not even paying attention to where I am going, I just know that I need to get away from them. I feel like I have ran down miles of never ending hallways, still being chased by the voices of those I killed, still feeling like they are right on my heels when hands start to reach from the open doorways at my sides.

The fingers are unable to hold on at first, only pulling at my clothes and lengths of hair, but I can feel myself start to tire and I find that I am starting to slow down. Soon the hands are able to grab a hold of me but I keep moving forward and they are unable to keep their grips. But then the hands are able to hold on and I felt myself being dragged backwards as I still struggle to move forwards. More hands grab a hold of me and then more hands and then I am being pulled to the ground and they are on top of me and then even more hands reach out towards me.

* * *

I wake with a start and though I realize that I must have been having a nightmare I still feel as though I have hundreds of hands holding me down. I still see the pain and the hurt in countless pairs of eyes and I can still hear the agony echoing in my ears. I can still feel the pain of watching them suffer reverberating in my chest.

I try to open my eyes and leave the nightmare behind but it is a struggle and I seem to only be able to open them slightly. I think I am able to see the light of day through the narrow cracks of my eyelids but I cannot be sure as everything I can see is fuzzy and unclear. When I try to turn my head I find that I am unable to and at first I can't understand why. It is as I continue to struggle against whatever is prohibiting the movement of my head that I feel the pressure. There seems to be something placed on either side of my head and something else, like a strap, across my forehead that will not let me lift it. I find the same thing when I try to move either of my arms or my legs. It seems as though my entire body is strapped down and my mind flashes to the image of Lincoln strapped to the floor as he was going through withdrawal.

It is then that I vaguely remember that I was strapped to something before and then other memories seep back into my mind: moving through the forest, those eyes, that voice, the pain. The memories come back to me but they all seem clouded or distorted in some way and I have trouble trying to clear them up. I lay that way for a long time, trying to clear the fuzziness from my thoughts but it doesn't seem to do any good.

It is a long while before I become aware that I am not alone. From out of the fogginess of my brain I start to register the sounds of movement beside me. Immediately the image of hundreds of hands reaching towards me flashes before my eyes and I feel myself flinch in response. I wait to feel hands and fingers clawing across my body but it never comes, instead I feel the weight across my forehead being taken away. I vaguely think I hear words being spoken but I can't make out what they mean or if they are even being directed towards me.

I take a chance and open my eyes again, hoping that I won't see any of the images that I saw in my nightmare and relax slightly when I don't. My vision is still blurry and unfocused and my eyes still won't fully open for me, but I only see one figure over me instead of many. What I guess to be the hooded person that I last saw leans over me again like before. I feel as their fingers brush gently across my head and run softly through my hair.

I am still very much afraid of who this person could be, but at the same time the way they are handling me reminds me of the way my mother has looked after me when I have been hurt or sick and I can feel the tension leaving my body. Whoever they are, they seem to care about me but I still hesitate to trust them.

As they continue to talk I try to make sense of the words I am hearing. I am not able to understand most of what they are telling me but I think I am able to make out a few words here and there. I try putting the words I do hear together and I think they are telling me that I have been hurt very badly and that I have an infection. I get the impression that I am not doing too well and that I need a lot of help, of which I think they are trying to give me.

Whoever it is moves away from me for a second or two and then they are back beside me and I feel a hand under the back of my head, lifting it up slightly. I then feel something press against my lips and I am pretty sure I hear the word 'drink.'

I am unwilling to follow their order at first as I don't know what it is they want me to drink. It could be poison for all I know and a part of me doesn't like to take orders. The hand on my head tightens just a fraction against my skull and the word is repeated with more force. I do not know this person and I cannot see their face to know if they are giving me the stern and pointed look that I imagine they are, but I can tell by the tone of their voice that they mean business and I know that I am not really in any position to fight them.

Before they tell me to drink for a third time I open my lips and allow a small amount of the liquid to enter. I can't tell what I am drinking but it is warm and the taste is a lot better than I expected it to be so I let the liquid slid down my throat. The container does not leave my lips and somehow I know that it won't until all of the contents have been drunk. Sip after sip I slowly drain the container and once I have finished the last of it they move the container away and slowly lye my head back down to rest.

I can feel as they replace the strap back across my forehead, securing my head once again. I want to protest but I can feel myself growing tired almost immediately. Before I know it I have once again fallen asleep.

My sleep is full of nightmares and upon my waking the stranger is there giving me more to drink before I fade back into sleep. The pattern repeats itself over and over again and I am sure that days are passing as I dream then wake then drink then dream again.

Then one day when I wake from a particularly bad nightmare my eyes open fully and for the first time I am able to see clearly again. When I go to move my head I find that it is no longer strapped down and I am able to look around the space that I currently occupy. There is plenty of light coming from somewhere to my right and I can completely take in everything I see.

I try to think back to the first night that I saw my surroundings and remember that I had thought I was in a cave. As I gaze about me now though I know that my first impression of this place had been wrong. What I had originally thought were rocky cave walls I now see are made of stone and though some of the walls are not standing straight I am aware that I am in an old building of some kind. The enclosure where I am is not overly small but it does seem smaller than the bunker that I had gone to with Finn and there looks to be a couple of passageways leading from it.

I discover that I am currently alone and I immediately think of escape. I try to sit up but I realize that though my head is no longer restrained the rest of my body still is. I try to determine what is holding me down but all I can see is a giant fur blanket covering my body. I test if I am able to move any of my limbs but they do not budge and I feel pain instantly from the right side of my body and immediately stop struggling.

With the thought of escape pretty much impossible for the moment I decide that I should really take stock of everything around me. I realize that I will probably need to know what is around me and what I could possibly use as a weapon if a chance to get away arises.

The left side of my body is right up against a wall and at my feet is another wall that extends a few feet before an opening that I am guessing leads to the outside because of the light that is pouring in from that direction. The open part of the room lies to my right and some distance beyond my head where the other passageway leads into darkness.

The wall right beside me is bare except for a few painted images like the ones I had seen inside Lincoln's cave though I don't look at them long enough to see what the images are actually of and the wall at my feet is covered in little shelves that hold numerous jars of varying contents, some of which look slightly familiar. The wall far off to my right contains only a couple shelves and upon them stands piles of books. Beside those shelves hang a few pieces of clothing and something that looks like a small guitar and below that is what looks to be a bed. The ground between the bed and where I lie is covered in pieces of fur here and there and in the very middle is a fire pit where some softly glowing embers still give off a little heat.

There is very little, if anything at all, that I would be able to use as a weapon around me and I can feel myself start to grow slightly desperate. I know that I am at the mercy of whoever brought me here for the time being and it is not a position I like to be in. My mind begins thinking of the many things that could be done to me and I feel a sense of panic begin to take root, and then my desperation and panic skyrocket when I hear footsteps coming from opening to my right.

I feel my heartbeat quicken within my chest and I hold my breath as I wait for whoever is coming to appear before me. The seconds seem to slow and I start to think that I may have imagined the noise when a figure is suddenly there, holding a large bundle of wood in their arms. I stare as they come to a stop within the opening and am able to see that their face, head and body are all covered and I am unable to see anything but a pair of brown eyes staring back at me.

We stare at each other for a minute before the person places the stack of wood on the ground and then shakes of a small layer of snow from their clothing. They then take a couple more steps into the room and closer to me. Their eyes do not leave mine and mine do not leave theirs as I watch them reach up with both of their hands and pull back the fabric from their head exposing long dark hair. Then they lower the fabric covering their face and I am able to see them for the first time.

I do not recognize the young woman standing before me but I find myself able to take a breath again when she smiles at me and says, "Well you are finally looking better, Little Seed. That is good to see."


End file.
